


Together We Banish The Darkness

by Shmallo



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Other, Wholesome Week (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:53:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26123794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shmallo/pseuds/Shmallo
Summary: Sleepy Bois + Tommy have nightmares. Fortunately, Phil is there to lend a hand.For Wholesome Week day 3!
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 488





	Together We Banish The Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mellifluouswoole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellifluouswoole/gifts).



_There was nothing left._

_Bottles; smashed on the ground. Piles of papers, of childish finger paint and pointless stories of dreams long past. Dark claw marks that tore the wallpaper from the walls, rusted bedsprings, musty, moth-eaten fabric that carpeted the floor._

_And it was going up in smoke._

_His room, his childhood, was being slowly eaten at by flickering flames, growing larger by the second. Yet despite the fire closing in from all sides, the waves of heat that seared into his skin, he couldn't make himself leave. He only watched with a tearstained face as the inferno closed around him, burning, hot, hot-_

Tommy jolted awake.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, eyes wide with panic. His skin still prickled with the flames of a phantom blaze. He glanced around his room to make sure that there weren't any coals still hidden beneath his bed. The corners were free from cinders, as was the closet where his old schoolwork still sat in a dusty box. He sat back down on his bed, though he couldn't bear the thought of falling back asleep. The fear of returning to that hellscape was enough to keep him awake despite the weariness of his body.

After staring at the ceiling, then walls, then burying his face in his pillow, he decided that he did not want to be in the room for a second longer. Quietly, he padded down the hall and into Phil's room.

Phil was seemingly asleep when he poked his head in, though the slight creak of the door startled him enough to blink blearily at the figure in his doorway. "Tommy?"

He took it as an invitation to creep inside, sitting himself down on the edge of the bed. The eldest brother sat up beside him, looping an arm over his shoulder. "Did you have a nightmare?"

It all came crashing down. Tommy leaned into Phil's shirt as his body was wracked with sobs, the awful reminder of reckless abandonment that rang loud in his mind. Choking on the tears, he managed to stutter out some semblance of explanation. "It was all gone, Phil. It burnt everything; my room, my work, me. All gone. Even my memory," he added quietly. His voice seemed so small. "Everything was forgotten. I don't want to be forgotten."

Phil stated into his eyes. "Tommy, I want you to listen to me. You are important, you are loved, and no amount of fire will ever take that away."

Tommy sniffled. "Thanks, Phil." He drew closer, nestling into the crook of his arm. "I don't wanna go back. Please."

When Phil woke up the next morning with Tommy curled against his side, the only thing that lay forgotten was last night's dreams.

•♡•♡•♡•

_The sword at his neck, biting into him, just gentle enough to not break his skin. The hand which held it did not falter, though his own were wracked with tremors even by his side. He scrabbled in the dirt for something, anything that he could use, but the dust of the arena floor yielded no weapons._

_"Well, I guess this is it." His opponent smirked, an ugly, conceited smile that mocked him in of itself. "You are beaten. Give up."_

_Around him, he could hear the crowd chanting. They booed and hissed at his name. Their eyes were filled with cold loathing. He snarled back against his enemy. "I'd rather die."_

_"So be it."_

_The sword came crashing down on him_ _, slicing clean through his neck as the crowd laughed and jeered-_

Techno's eyes snapped open.

He could feel his breath uneven in his chest, the slight shivering of his body. His nerves were shattered, his whole body tensed to run. Slowly, he lowered himself out of bed.

There was a light on in the kitchen. A cup of freshly brewed coffee sat on the counter, still piping hot. He sipped it gratefully, letting the warmth of the beverage flow through him, calming his beating heart and replacing the terrifying haze of sleep with caffeine, though it could not banish all of his thoughts.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Techno startled to see Phil sitting on the couch, nursing a cup of his own. Techno sighed and nodded, sliding into the seat next to him.

"Just a nightmare," he muttered staring into his drink. "Think I told you 'bout it before?"

"The one where you lose?"

"I lose in all of my nightmares, Phil," he commented dryly, though the eldest noticed the slight droop of his head as he spoke. He didn't push it further.

They sat in comfortable silence, sipping their drinks, Techno's head moving to lean against his shoulder. Eventually, heavy breathing turned to light snores, and Phil smiled softly as he carefully replaced himself with a pillow, and draped a blanket over him. He left Techno to now placid dreams.

•♡•♡•♡•

_He was walking the streets of London. His beanie sat over unkempt curls, round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Against his back, the guitar was firmly strapped, something that would usually turn heads and attract gazes. He was honestly surprised someone hadn't asked him about it, yet._

_Still, he kept walking._

_There were a group of teenagers at a park. Each one of them wore a familiar navy blue sweater, the word 'Soot' emblazoned in large letters on the front. A smile formed on his face, a plan formulating in his mind. He strode up to one of them and tapped them on the shoulder._

_"Do you know the directions to the nearest station?"_

_Not one of them responded. He repeated the question. They didn't even bother to look up._

_"Hello?"_

_"Anyone?"_

_He ran out onto the street, only noticing now the shirts that every single person wore._ His _shirt,_ his _name, yet they didn't even notice his existence. The crowd started to close in. Nine million people and not a single one of them could see him. He wanted to shout, to scream-_

Wilbur woke up with a shriek.

Phil was by his side in seconds. rubbing soothing circles into his back. He trembled as the eldest wrapped him in a warm embrace, running a hand through his long, tousled hair. "It's alright, I'm here. I won't leave you."

Wilbur stammered back a response. "No-one could see me, they didn't know I existed... I felt so alone..."

"Wilbur, look at me." Watery brown eyes met soft blue. "We will never ignore you, alright? You're a part of our family. You're never alone."

He managed a weak smile, squeezing back tight against the hug. "Thank you."

He smiled. "Any day."

•♡•♡•♡•

For as long as they could remember, Phil had always been there. Every stumble, every fall, he was there to catch them, to dry their tears and hold them tight. Though none of them were held together with blood ties, Phil was the reason that their whole weird and wonderful family hadn't broken down. He had worked tirelessly to make sure they ran like a well-oiled machine every day - well, for most of the time, at least (they were a chaotic force by nature, and a handful to keep down). They appreciated him, they really did, but it was easy to forget the toll it took on the eldest. It was a sharp reminder as they found him passed out on a chair after one too many arguments.

Even Tommy fell silent at the sight of him, reading glasses clutched in his hand, papers scattered across the tabletop. The bags under his eyes they'd been missing for days were more prominent than ever, as was his sallow skin. He looked like a train wreck.

Wordlessly, Wilbur peeled his hands away from the pen and glasses, Tommy quietly packing away his paperwork while Techno scooped up the sleeping man and brought him to the bedroom, gently tucking him beneath the blankets. Unconsciously, Phil snuggled down as the quilt was pulled over him. He motioned at the others to keep quiet as he shut the door behind him. Then, a grin broke out.

"Now, I believe we were in the middle of me beating you at skywars."  
They were only into their third game when a loud thud came from the bedroom. Three pairs of footsteps thundered loud in a race to reach him first. The light that trickled in through the door illuminated a sorry sight indeed.

Phil was on the floor, blanket strewn in a heaped mess, curled up into a ball. The most disturbing part about it was that though he had just tumbled out of bed, _he was still asleep_. Somehow, he was still trapped in his own mind.

Tommy was shouting, Techno clutching his hand, Wilbur violently shaking his shoulder. A cacophony that rose around them, trying to break through and pull Phil back. Somewhere, deep within the garbled maze of sleep, their voices dragged him back to reality, to the light and the family that watched him though worry-clouded eyes. He said nothing of the dream, just pulled them in tighter and whispered to himself, "They're safe, they're here, _they're here._ "

As one, they answered him. "We'll always be here."


End file.
